


Wish Upon A Star

by vestyr



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, High School, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Karl Jacobs, Mentioned Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Song Lyrics, popular dream and not popular george, steamy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vestyr/pseuds/vestyr
Summary: Dream had it all- he was the captain of the football team, had a perfect girlfriend, and all the friends he could want. In comes George, with his lilting British accent and his irritating ability to make Dream forget what he was saying every time he looked at him. And suddenly, Dream was falling. Hard.Or, it's prom night and Dream wants nothing more than to leave with George.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 152





	Wish Upon A Star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freyawakeling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freyawakeling/gifts), [emilyyyhsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyyyhsu/gifts).



> I love high school au's so I was really excited to write this one! Loosely based on Stargazing by The Neighborhood :D
> 
> Shoutout to Freya and Emily (@fophienotfound and @meowllohi on Twitter!) for giving me the inspiration for this fic, love you guys <3
> 
> Follow my Twitter for updates <333 @ghostburs_bluee!

The blaring music bursting from low-quality speakers was beginning to make Dream’s head hurt. He knew that he should be dancing, talking to friends, kissing his date, but the only thing he could think of was how hot it was and how much he really _did not want to be there_.

He leaned further back in his seat, gently swirling his red solo cup filled with lemonade. Absentmindedly, he looked around, raking through the crowd, looking for familiar faces. There was Bad and Skeppy, dancing next to each other (Dream made a mental note to ask Bad what was going on between the pair). He continued his search, spotting an irritated-looking Wilbur with a wiry blond (Dream couldn’t see their face from his angle, but he assumed it was Tommy) chatting his ear off and a bored Tubbo sitting on the other side of them, a grinning Niki taking photos next to Philza, and a Sapnap that seemed to be extremely… _preoccupied_ with a certain brunette by the name of Karl Jacobs.

A voice next to him caused him to jump, head snapping up with a start.

“Hi,” someone giggled, and Dream’s expression softened when he realized who it was.

“Hi George,” he responded, a small smile gracing his face as he gazed up at warm brown eyes. George pulled out a chair in front of Dream, sitting down to face him. Dream pushed his drink across the table, offering the other a sip. The raven-haired man grinned, gratefully accepting the cup and taking a small swig. Dream tried not to focus on the way his hands looked gripping the plastic.

He turned away for a second, trying (and failing) to clear his head of any and all thoughts revolving George, before his attention was pulled to the drink sliding back his way. Dream looked up with a grin on his face, grabbing it and tilting the cup as he took a small sip of the slightly sour liquid. Over the top of the rim, he caught sight of George blushing furiously, looking to the side rather quickly. Dream smirked as he lowered the drink, placing it back on the table next to him.

His gaze locked onto George, eyes raking over his fluffy hair, traveling across the expanse of his face, drinking in detail after detail like he had never seen this man before in his life. The small smile that rested on his features as he looked around the room in slight awe, the dips of his cheekbones and brows, the dimple that was only present on his cheeks when he was laughing hysterically.

The sound of him speaking cut through his racing thoughts.

“What’s his name- Toby? He looks so bored next to Tommy,” George laughed, and Dream glanced over to where he was looking.

“Tubbo? Yeah that happens a lot,” he chuckled to himself. George nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, Tubbo. Your guys’ nicknames for everyone are so weird,” he commented, and Dream shook his head in amusement.

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t even know how it started. I think Tommy stumbled over his words one day and accidentally said Tubbo, and then Tubbo started saying Philza, and then everyone just kind of… took their own creative liberty with their names,” Dream tried to explain, though based on the look on George’s face, he might have made the other even more confused. “You’ll get it eventually.”

George smiled slightly, gaze falling to his lap where his hands fiddled with each other. “I can’t believe it’s already been a month since I moved here,” he murmured, and Dream could barely hear his voice carry over the booming bass of the shitty, censored music. He reached out and grabbed one of his hands, holding it firm with his own.

“I’m glad you came here,” Dream confessed, and George looked up quickly.

“You mean it?” He asked, tone sounding slightly hesitant, as if suspicious that Dream was lying.

Dream nodded reassuringly. “Yeah, I mean it.” A beat of silence passed, in which Dream finds himself, once again, staring at George. He seems to be doing that a lot. “Do you- do you want to get out of here?” He asked, a mischievous smile creeping up onto his lips.

George looks at him, and for a second, all Dream could see was _George, George, George_. He was addicted to those eyes, deep and warm and absolutely beautiful. The way there was always an unruly piece of hair that fell across his forehead, despite George reaching up to fix it every few minutes. The smile lines etched onto his soft features, physical evidence of his joy.

Another beat passes.

Then, “I thought you’d never ask.”

That was all the confirmation Dream needed to stand up, the grip he had on George’s hand tightening.

“Come on then!” He replied with excitement, dragging him across the floor and to the exit, body aching for the cold, crisp air of the parking lot outside. As they neared the door, George let out a small exclamation.

“Dream! What about your girlfriend?” He asked, and Dream hesitated, turning to scan the dance floor. He quickly spotted her dancing in the middle of a throng of her friends, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“Definitely not missing me. Let’s go!” Dream answered, gripping George’s hand tighter before flinging the exit doors open, letting the chilly air fill his lungs.

And so the pair ran to Dream’s car, flinging the doors open and slipping inside the vehicle. Before George could even buckle his seatbelt properly, Dream was pulling out of the parking space and peeling out of the parking lot.

A few moments of silence later, Dream hands George a small cable.

“Aux?” He offered, and the other couldn’t help but laugh slightly. He took the wire from his outstretched hand, plugging it into his phone as he searched for a song to play.

Dream glanced at George at the sound of an unfamiliar melody seeping through the speakers, a questioning look on his face.

“Stargazing by The Neighborhood,” George supplemented. “My favorite song of all time-” he paused for a brief second, “And I think you would like it too.”

Dream nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. His mind drifted as his body went on autopilot, making its way through the familiar and repetitive motions of driving. He almost doesn’t recognize the path he was driving on until the side of the road next to them falls away, revealing a steep cliff and dark waters lapping at a quiet shore far below.

“There’s a really pretty viewpoint up here that not many people know about. The parking lot is, like, always empty, and it’s one of the best places to see stars without having to drive out almost fifty miles,” Dream found himself saying, fondness rushing through his veins at the memory of watching the stars with his family when he was younger.

George let out a quiet noise of affirmation, and once more, a comfortable silence filled the car. The lyrics of the song, which was now on repeat per request of George, finally began to register in Dream’s mind.

_You take me on a ride_

_Gonna drive me crazy_

_Ooh, baby_

_I feel like we made it pretty far_

_Now we're stargazing_

Dream’s breath hitched slightly at the lyrics, and he couldn't stop himself from connecting the words to their current situation. There’s no way it’s a coincidence, right?

He continued to listen carefully, picking apart word after word of the soft tune.

_Better keep the A/C on for me_

_Not enough, yeah_

_Windows start to fog_

_Clothing coming off_

_Making it too hot_

_Got me thinkin'_

Dream coughed slightly, flustered at the implication of the lines. He spared a glance at the passenger side seat to see George looking out the window with a soft look of wonder on his face, fingers tapping along to the beat of the song on his thigh. Dream forced himself to tear his gaze away.

Those lyrics… did they mean something, or was Dream going crazy? Was George really attracted to him like that?

A few minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of the viewpoint, stars twinkling happily above them in the night sky.

Dream walked to George’s side of the car with a grin, pulling the door open with an exaggerated British accent. “Here, good sir,” he announced dramatically, dipping into an excessive bow. George’s giggle was worth the embarrassment.

The blond opened the car’s trunk, laying out blankets and pillows that were already in the back for the both of them to lay on. They both clambered in, lying on their backs and looking up at the bright stars gleaming down at them.

“You’re right,” George murmured softly, after a beat or two of silence.

“Hm?” Dream asked, rolling onto his side and propping his head up with his hand to gaze at him.

“This is the clearest I’ve seen the night sky in ages,” he whispered, eyes refusing to move to look at Dream.

“What did I say?” The other responded, his tone light and teasing. 

For a while, they made light small talk- George described his life in Britain before moving here (“I swear I was popular!”), and in exchange, Dream recounted embarrassing stories involving him and Sapnap.

“What do you think Sapnap’s doing right now?” George wondered aloud, hands folded behind his head as he continued to look up at the night sky.

Dream snorted. “Probably railing Karl, if I’m being honest.”

George spluttered loudly, letting out an indignant noise. “What- huh?” He asked incredulously.

Dream laughed at George’s reaction. “You heard me! Those two are hornier than a pair of teenage boys in middle school.” A beat of silence stretches out for a few seconds, and Dream contemplates his next words. “They’re cute, though. Karl is perfect for Sapnap- he can take everything Sapnap brings to the table and actually work with it. I wish-” his voice falters slightly, and he clears his throat. “I wish I had someone like that,” he finished, voice dropping to barely louder than a whisper.

George doesn’t say anything, and a quick glance at him showed that he hadn’t moved.

“Tell me about her,” he finally said, catching Dream off guard.

“What?” He asked, confusion seeping through his tone.

“Your girlfriend,” George stated, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Dream’s head returned to fix its gaze on the stars, mulling over his response for a moment or two. “She’s great,” he replied lamely, praying that George would leave the topic alone. However, luck didn’t seem to be on his side that day.

“You don’t sound very happy,” George pointed out, and Dream squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that he would just _stop talking_. Unfortunately, that isn’t quite the case. “It just- it doesn’t seem like you’re telling the truth. At least, not the whole truth.”

Dream sighed, the pressure of his reply weighing down on his chest. “I wasn’t lying when I said she’s great,” he started. “She’s just not great _for me_.”

Then, possibly the worst thing George could say.

“What do you mean ‘not great for me’? She’s the head cheerleader, valedictorian, head of the student board, and you’re- you’re the popular jock! Quarterback, captain of the varsity team, straight A’s… what’s the issue?” He asked, and Dream could have screamed.

His thoughts swirled around his mind, anger bubbling up and coursing through his veins. Some part of him knew that George probably didn’t mean to come off as so mean, but his emotions were too strong, pushing through the barrier of logic and rationality.

“Everything! Everything is the fucking issue, George! I have people breathing down my neck 24/7, forcing me to date her and act like everything is just _fucking peachy_. I don’t even like her, for fuck’s sake! I don’t even fucking like women!” Dream exclaimed, chest rising and falling, anger coursing through his veins.

Then, a beat passes, and another, the implication of his words hanging heavy in the air, and he realizes what he just said. “Fuck!” He exclaimed angrily, slamming a fist into the side of the car, ignoring the stinging pain of split skin over his knuckles.

Dream climbed out of the trunk, ignoring George’s soft calls for him to come back and calm down. He walked over to the edge of the cliff, swallowing thickly and ignoring how far away the sandy beach below him looked.

A beat later, a pair of dress shoes appeared in his line of sight. Dream looked up to see a rather nervous-looking George looking down at him, a hand outstretched in a sort of apologetic gesture.

With a sigh, he took his hand. However, instead of pushing himself up, he moved to pull George down and sit next to him on the ledge.

George gave a loud squawk of protest.

Dream laughed. “What was that?” He asked, wheezing quietly.

“I’m afraid of heights,” George muttered under his breath, hand gripping Dream’s so tight that the other was afraid the skin on this hand would break too. He resorted to sitting down a few feet away from the edge, knees tucked into his body and head resting on top of them. Dream bit back a smile when he realized George was still holding his hand.

They stayed like that for a while, Dream’s thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of George’s pale hand. At some point, Dream had inched backward until he was sitting next to George, the other’s head leaning on his shoulder. The older fiddled with Dream’s fingers, crossing and uncrossing them before finally deciding to hold his hand and not let go.

“We need to get this cleaned up,” George whispered into the night, words carrying through the air like a soft summer breeze. He held up Dream’s busted knuckles; they both winced at the sight.

Dream allowed himself to be gently tugged up to a standing position, letting George lead the way back to the car.

“The first-aid kit is on the passenger side door,” Dream called out, watching as he flashed him a quick thumbs-up before holding up the tiny bag. George waited for him to reach the door, gesturing inside to indicate that Dream should sit down.

  
The blond flashed him a questioning look before sliding into the leather seat, sticking out the injured hand for George to take care of. However, he was met with surprise when George also climbed into the car, shutting the door softly behind him.

He carefully positioned himself on Dream’s lap, gently perched on top of his thigh as he took hold of Dream’s hand, beginning the process of bandaging it up.

Without looking up, George cleaned the wound site with a few alcohol wipes, trying to ignore his heart squeezing in his chest every time he heard the other hiss out in pain. He carefully wrapped his hand in a bandage after applying some ointment, pressing a gentle kiss on top of the gauze when finished.

When he finally let himself meet Dream’s gaze, he was taken aback by the intensity of the look. There was a surprising softness present, however, and George hid a grin at the thought that it was all for him.

All of Dream was out in the open, just for him to see and feel. He was vulnerable, exposed without his normal stone walls of fortification around his heart. In that moment, he was George’s, and George was his. They longed for each other, the way Orpheus longed for Eurydice.

Dream was sure, in that moment, that he had found his person. The one who would hold him at night when the fear of life itself came crashing down on him, the one who would kiss him senseless when he needed a distraction, the one who Dream would drop anything and everything for.

Dream was the sun- bold and blazing and hot and passionate. George was the moon, careful and wise and filled with compassion. The universe was made for pairs, and Dream had just found his other half.

And when their lips finally met, in a clashing display of neediness and affection, Dream couldn’t have wished for a better first kiss with George. He easily dominated it, swallowing the whimpers the other was so readily giving out.

A hand snaked its way up to the other’s neck, tangling itself in the hair at the base of George’s head. Dream experimentally tugged it, not expecting the sharp moan that left the other’s mouth.

He had to hide a smirk as he continued the kiss.

After a few more seconds, George broke them apart. Almost immediately, he latched onto the blond’s jawline, sucking a mark just below it. He moved down his neck, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses on the wide expanse of soft, pale skin while they both caught their breath.

He was interrupted when Dream placed a finger under George’s chin, raising his head until they were making eye contact. George could practically feel his heart stuttering wildly.

“Before anything else happens,” Dream murmured, chest rising and falling, lips slightly wet, “Are you okay with this? And like, whatever happens after this?” He asked, needing reassurance that George was perfectly all right.

“Please,” George whined quietly, and that was all Dream needed to lunge back in, hands dropping to the other’s slender waist as he squeezed tightly. In a brief moment of clarity, George disconnected their lips once more, leaning his forehead against Dream’s as he whispered, “There’s more room in the trunk.”

Getting to the back of the car was a mess of tangled limbs and warm bodies pressed together, George refusing to let go of Dream’s hand and Dream refusing to let go of- well, any part of George that he could grip and hold onto.

When the trunk finally opened, Dream pushed George down onto the already made makeshift bed with a smirk. Placing both hands on either side of the other’s head, he leaned in and pressed kisses to George’s neck, lips slowly moving lower and lower until they were brushing the collar of the white shirt he was wearing under his suit. Once more, whispered permission hung heavy in the air as Dream carefully undid button after button, George’s nimble fingers doing the same to him.

Then, it was skin on skin, soft touches causing nerve after nerve to fire in both of their bodies. Quiet promises conveyed through gentle kisses, moving bodies betraying every last emotion that they had fought so hard to keep hidden. Dream lost himself to the pleasure, pure ecstasy flooding his veins as George let out one last moan, letting himself go. Then, he was slowly sinking back to his senses, growing aware of his surroundings once again.

George was quiet as he let Dream clean him up, a blissful smile of happiness permanently residing on his features. Dream wasn’t faring much better himself, pure giddiness overtaking his system.

Once Dream was finished, he took a seat next to George, who had drifted off a little while ago. He sat up straight, watching the stars once more while a hand traced small circles into the tiny expanse of skin exposed by George’s ridden-up dress shirt.

His eyes jumped from star to star, making mental note of each constellation he could find and where it was in the night sky. Then, a small streak of light caught his attention, lasting no longer than a second as it shot against the vast expanse of darkness, and he grinned to himself. A shooting star.

Dream recalled an old story his mother had told him about how wishes made on a shooting star always come true, a small smile decorating his face. Without a moment of hesitation, he shut his eyes and _hoped_. He had never been one for superstitions or old children’s tales that honestly seemed more creepy than fun, but he would hold on for this one. For George.

A little while later, he gently nudged the older awake, the irritated groan he let out showing his disappointment. With a little convincing and a soft “it’s almost your curfew”, George was guided back to the passenger seat, Dream buckling him up and giving him a soft jacket he could use as a pillow.

With that, they were off, heading back down the road they came in and away from the night sky. The lights of their town became ever more apparent, and the stars above twinkled weaker and weaker.

Dream pulled up in front of George’s house, parking so he could get out. He paused as he opened the car door, turning and leaving a quick kiss on Dream’s cheek before he could react. Then, he was gone, and Dream was left to the mercy of his thoughts, alone in a car that was much better suited for two.

At home, George quickly made his way up to his room. He was too tired to answer any questions his parents had about prom, and considering the fact that he was there for barely an hour and a half before leaving, he felt as though he wasn't qualified enough to even answer them.

With a groan, he began to take off his suit, throwing the clothes onto his bed as he rifled through his closet for a pair of pajama pants and a soft sweatshirt. After changing, George grabbed the suit from his bed, ready to fold it and put it away, fully preparing to never have it see the light of day for as long as possible. However, a tiny slip of paper caught his attention- it stuck out of the inside pocket of the fabric, the bright white a stark contrast against the black thread. Curious, he plucked it out, unfolding it and beginning to read. Affection bloomed in his chest at the words, warmth spreading from his fingertips to his toes.

_Coffee date, after school, Monday_

_[ ] yes_

_[ ] no_

A grin grew on his lips, and George giggled to himself quietly. Grabbing the closest pen, he checked the little “yes” box, refolding the paper and placing it on his desk, making a mental note to grab it on Monday. With a dopey smile, he climbed into bed, pulling the covers to his chin and snuggling into his pillow, imagining it was Dream’s warm body holding him close.

That night, both Dream and George fell asleep with thoughts of the other swirling in their minds, hopeful and hopelessly in love.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed reading! I speedran this fic in like 5 hours last night and it was so worth it hehe
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment and/or kudos :D those inspire me to write and motivate me soso much!
> 
> Much love!


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